


Neighborhood Watch Series: Hiraeth

by OnyourRadar



Series: Neighborhood Watch Series [4]
Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Addition to the, And Cooking for Sick Lucas Eliott, Eliott is Suave, Fluffy, Ignore how my series is not, Lucas feels Nostalgic, M/M, Neighborhood Watch Series, Reminiscing, Somewhere between Cereal Eating Eliott, This sits, just a little, linear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:54:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23955676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnyourRadar/pseuds/OnyourRadar
Summary: Hiraeth: a Welsh word for homesickness or nostalgia, an earnest longing or desire, or a sense of regret.
Relationships: Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant
Series: Neighborhood Watch Series [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1425586
Comments: 8
Kudos: 73





	Neighborhood Watch Series: Hiraeth

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little thing I was working on. Still Working on other things.
> 
> Have not edited this SORRY
> 
> IGNORE HOW AWKWARD MY PHRASING CAN BE 😘

It’s a Wednesday of all days—when he was only half way through the week—that Lucas is struck with the thought of much things have changed for him in such little time. He isn’t sure what he feels as his muscles burn from the constant whipping motion of his hand. 

He lifts the spatula and there is that burn of satisfaction as the orange buttercream frosting he’s whipping up as a tester forms soft peaks. Little tinted mountains, he thinks, that he has finally conquered in the weeks working for Manon. He places the bowl down and scans his notes for next steps—scrapes the spatual on the side of the bowl and places it down with a gentleness he’s always found himself capable of. 

A gentleness he credits to his mother. He remembers the ease in which she carried herself despite the stresses that followed her around like a lost child. How she always found the time to spare a smile genuine and true, to bring her fingers up to run through his hair, the way she bent and dropped kisses on his forehead. 

Lucas uses the back of his hands to wipe away at the sweat beads at his hairline just as he finishes frosting the devil’s food cupcakes and throwing them in the fridge. He can feel the tacky sensation of flour wetting on his forehead and can only imagine the sight he must make standing there. In a kitchen, metal slab countertop to his left, racks and shelves lined with state of the art equipment as well as the homely wooden spoons and worn or outdated cake stands. 

"Lucas!" 

Lucas walks both the front of the store and finds Manon with her hands full and customers waiting. 

"Some boys just walked in—could you?" He nods without her having to ask but he wishes in the moments following that he had offered to take the plates off her hands. To avoid the group that stands in front of him. He recognizes three. 

Eliott who tossed weed cookies at him like it was a normal exchange between friends. His roommate with the curly hair who smiles at him kindly.

"Oh it's you." And his voice, just as soft. 

"No wonder you wa—" he's cut off as Eliott jabs him in the side and pushes his way in front of his curly haired friend. 

Lucas feels a little lost as the scene plays out in front of him, bites at his lips as he waits for the two to sort things out as if they weren't standing in line to order cakes. 

Lucas finds it all…all endearing. His eyes grow soft at the scene of the two scrabbling, both whispering harshly with each other but their words carry little heat. 

Again Lucas is struck by the thought of how much has changed for him. How home was now a different place. A door emblazoned with 4F in fake golden paint. It wasn't sitting with his mother on a piano bench or soothing hands brushing back his hair. There were no longer moments stolen in the living room as they shared the cooled cookies baked from pre packaged dough. 

He doesn’t get to brush against her side and throw teasing smiles over his shoulder as she laughs. The hollowness at the thought— of losing that warm pink glow of sundown sitting with his mother— echoes painfully in his chest as he watches the friends live a moment that feels like it took a lifetime to perfect.

“You both gonna order or what?” 

Their taller dark—skinned friend, with a look of exasperation painted on his face, rolls his eyes at their antics. 

“Oh fuck it, come find me when you’ve settled down.” He walks away and sits at an open table, pulling out his phone all the while muttering about _“always acting like children”_ and Lucas thinks— this was their normal routine. 

It takes another moment before Eliott, wearing a tight fitting white tee and blue jeans that hug him just right leans his forearms against the counter. His curly haired friend pushed aside, eyes rolling and throwing a soft smile towards Lucas. A sort of _“sorry for the trouble”_ smile that is dropped off in Lucas’ hands before turning and making his way to his other friend.

If Lucas leans and looks over the counter he is sure he might see a peak of ankle under rolled denim. 

He doesn’t. 

“Hi.”

“H-hi.” Lucas says. Finds that his breath is oddly absent from his chest. 

“What can I get for you?” 

Lucas finds it hard to keep eye contact so he looks at the cool marble in front of him, where strong fingers are weaved together and rested. 

“I didn’t know you worked here.” 

Lucas doesn’t think there was a lot that Eliott would know about him since they’ve only ever interacted a handful of times. WHat with him lending Eliott sugar and him watching Eliott eat those tooth rotting cereals that Lucas was so fond of when he was a child. Lucas tilts his head, stares at Eliott and feels the beginnings of a smile tug at his lips. 

“You never asked.” With all the changes that have followed in the last year or so— the one thing he wishes will become rooted in this new reality is how Eliott might get more opportunities to ask. 

And Eliott tilts his head, those eyes blinking in thought. “Hm. no I guess I didn’t.” 

Lucas waits. Holds his breath.

Something tells Lucas—maybe it's that smile that looks like a summer breeze, or the way those broad fingers twitch between them like a phantom urge—tells Lucas that naybe, Eliott wants to hold his hands.

He thinks that's a silly thought. But he wouldn't mind replacing all his missed memories with the heavy comfort of a hand in his and relearn what it felt like to lace fingers with someone you loved. 

"What would you recommend?" 

Lucas plays with the strings of his apron. Looks away from the heady gaze and thinks about flavors and taste and...what did he like? He wonders why he over thinks something meant to be so simple. Like he is scared to share such harmless information. 

Because his mind travels and spirals and he thinks of all the ways it could be used against him.

"His favorites are the mini cakes. Tiramisu, second only to the strawberry shortcakes." 

When Lucas looks over at Manon standing there, hands drying off on a paper towel, green eyes locked on Eliott and she looks prepared to swoop down to save him at the first sign of danger. Yet there’s a confidence and a reassurance in the way Eliott simply moves to rest his chin on a raised palm. When he smiles and turns those eyes back onto Lucas and really looks at him, Lucas is graced with a smile. 

“A little bit of sweet, a little bit bitter. Sounds fitting.” 

Eliott orders a slice of birthday cake for himself. Angel food cake for his curly haired friend and a fitting spiced rum cake for his other friend. When Lucas rings him up, takes his card as payment, he doesn’t imagine, like all those times they way Eliott offers up those fleeting touches, fingers brushing against fingers; lingering. 

He’s reminded of warmth and a closeness that is only an imprint in his memory. When Lucas puts the plates down at their tables and receives of chorus of cheers like he was their lord and saviour, he can’t help but feel the longing for something past dull just a little. 

He finds it in himself to think that perhaps all the changes only happened so to lead to something good. All the past nudged aside making room for something new to take a hold and grow. 

He takes the smile from Eliott for what it is. Just about turns when he feels a hand on his wrist stop him. 

It’s odd how, he thinks, this scene might look so intimate from an outsider perspective. So Lucas has to fight to pull himself back and into his own body so he might not place meaning where meaning wasn’t meant to be. 

He looks down at those fingers that hold him in place and traces the unblemished skin, strong muscles of his forearms seem to pulse as he holds onto Lucas and it screams at him that Eliott doesn’t quite want to let go. 

He finds it curious. Why his grip is so gentle. When Lucas finally meets Eliott’s eyes, all blue and grey and speckled with a colored dust, he is struck by the intimidating beauty of soft edges directed at him. 

“Wait. You’ve got a little—” He brings a finger to brush against Lucas’ cheeks and the pressure of it draws out a blush. 

“There. All good.” Lucas stands there even after Eliott let’s him go, stands there and watches as Eliott turns towards his slice of cake, bites into and flips his friends off before turning back to Lucas smiling with a fork in his mouth. 

When he finally gets back his bearings Lucas touches his own cheeks and mutters a thanks at the ground beneath his feet. He walks away without looking back because he feels his beating heart wouldn’t be able to take the longing. 

The want to make some new memories. Maybe with them. Maybe with him. 

——

“You know those boys?”

“I wouldn’t say know.” Because he doesn’t quite _know_ much about them. Only glimpsed them from around the corner, heard their laughter echoing in ways that told Lucas “we did our time, we’ve earned this”. 

He ignored her raised eyebrow and goes back to cleaning up and cashing out. Counts the dollars in the tip jars quietly under his breath. Offers half to Manon and like clockwork, as if they’ve done this hundreds of times now, Manon glares at him and turns away with a huff. 

She ignores the money and he feels thankful as he pockets the day’s tips. 

“But you want to?” 

Lucas stops and stares at the empty display case. Turns back to look at his boss who has a smile of comfort dancing on her petal lips. 

“It’s okay you know?” 

He has to blink at the thought. Because being “okay” was always something he’s been struggling with. And maybe a part of him was still trying to claw and grasp at that part of himself that really, he should have let go of a long time ago. Should have let go of it when the word’s “mom isn’t living with us anymore” were thrown out so carelessly in his youth and he was forced to grow up far too fast. 

“It’s okay to want that.” 

Lucas thinks, yes. It was okay to want. He just needed to know where to continue. Because it seems Eliott has already begun the process of starting. For the both of them. 

——

When he gets home he sees it. Sitting innocently in front of his door, a small white box with “Little Bites” printed on the side. A folded sticky note is placed atop the box, bright orange and out of place. 

He straightens, box in hand and fingers picking at the note delicately as if it were precious. Invaluable. 

_“A little bit of sweet, a little bit bitter. Sounds fitting.”_

His heart skips a beat as he looks down at the small cakes, one tiramisu and one strawberry shortcake sitting neatly together. 

Lucas thinks about the day and he thinks about Eliott who he has seen and interacted with on a handful of occasions and how Lucas can’t quite pin him down. His mind imprints the image of that boy in his thoughts and sometimes—sometimes without asking, that boy floats through and Lucas is powerless to stop him. Stop it from happening. He gets the flash of blue grey eyes, unruly chestnut locks, and a wide smile. A heavy hand that rests and burns a phantom weight on his shoulders where he touched him. Lucas doesn’t know why he thinks of him so often. 

But he does. And today doesn’t help. The little cakes with the perfect blend of cocoa brown and blush pink sitting next to each other. A bright orange note that he couldn’t forget even if he wanted. 

But the thoughts of him come. Always.

It happens most when Lucas comes home from work late at night and his arms are sore and he’s weighed down with aching feet. All Lucas wants is to crash on his bed and sleep but then he hears the sound of loud and raucous laughter. It rings down the halls and through thin walls and he’s drawn to that door that he is sure it is coming from. Four doors down from where he stood with keys hanging from his loose grip. His eyes bore into the door and he hears it again. 

He eats half of the tiramisu and savors the flavor of coffee beans bursting on his tongue, chews thoughtfully and saves the rest for later. Washes down the flavor with a cup of milk then bites into the other. The delicate taste of strawberry layers on his tongue and he is overwhelmed with the want to share it with a boy that lives four doors down and has already made a home in his heart. 

It tastes beautiful. 

——

“Hey” 

Lucas startles at the greeting. He turns and finds Eliott standing behind him; arms held behind his back and toes pointed on the ground. 

“Y—yes?” 

Lucas feels utterly unprepared, hadn’t heard him coming and nearly drops the bags in his hands. His fingers scramble for purchase on the paper bags. Eliott tilts his head like he finds everything he looks at to be charming. 

“Had a question that I thought—well, maybe I can ask once we’re inside.”

Lucas finds himself staring again. Liking the way Eliott feels comfortable enough to ask permission in such a way. As if his place in Lucas’ home was a normal thing and his “asking” isn’t really “asking”. He likes the liberty that Eliott takes. 

Lucas turns back to the door, puts his bags down and pushes his keys in and turns the knob to the skipping beats of his heart. It thumps against his ribcage and whispers for Lucas to let it out. 

He tells it no.

He is surprised to see Eliott bending and picking up one of the bags, forearms curling around it with ease. Lucas mutters out a quiet thanks before he moves aside and like he did the first time— that first time Eliott came over for sugar and Lucas felt his heartbeat flutter uncontrollably—he let’s Eliott in. He trips on the threshold and it’s barely a second later when he finds an arm around his waist, saving him from tasting the floor, hard. 

Eliott laughs and the sound of it echoes and Lucas can’t help but pay attention to how flushed up against Eliott he stands. 

That laughter. It shakes him to the core and wakes him from his stupor. 

Lucas turns slightly and eyes Eliott wearily, hides his breathless state and drowns as the tall brunette shoots him a dazzling smile. He is quick to separate before stuttering out a thank you. He leaves the door open for Eliott as he makes quick work towards his fridge. He leaves Eliott to make himself comfortable and does his best to calm the beating of his pulse. He opens cabinets and his fridge and starts to put away the groceries—thankful for the task to busy himself. 

“What do you know about cheese?” The question throws him off. Of everything that Eliott might have said to him, standing there with his hands braced against the counter. Lucas pauses in stocking his fridge and turns to face Eliott who leans there. Casually with his ankles crossed.. A boy taking privileges in his home. Taking residence somewhere in his chest. 

"I'm sorry, what?" Lucas feels like he might be asleep. Dreaming about this cute boy and his affinity for asking odd questions. 

“Cheese. Do you know anything about which ones would make the best mac’n’cheese?”

Ah. Another cooking adventure with a neighbor he knows little about aside from how kind he must be if his gentle laughter was anything to go by. How playful in nature he spelled out by the way he holds himself. 

Eliott holds up a box that Lucas hadn’t noticed before. A small rectangular box of pre packaged mac’n’cheese. A meal made in 8 easy minutes. 

He could almost see his father standing at the stove, boiling pasta and mixing powdered cheese with water and serving the bland meal. Lucas eating it in silence at the table. His father, sitting across from him.

Frowning. 

Lucas looks from the box to Eliott and once more. 

“You realize what you have right there is boxed mac’n’cheese right?” 

Eliott scrunches his nose all cute and as he holds up the box. “Yeah but you could just make it better by adding real cheese.”

Lucas steps forward. He doesn’t really think about how close he gets until he’s looking up and Eliott is there in his line of sight and it feels like he’s breathing his air. He takes a step back. 

“You don’t think that’ll work?” Lucas cracks a first smile since opening that door and letting Eliott in. Not because he hadn’t felt the urge to smile. But more because he had felt it so strongly. Lucas didn’t know what to do with the unfamiliar feeling. 

“Do you have any cheese?” Lucas tilts his head when Eliott huffs and looks to the side, runs a hand through his own hair, ruffling it from the back. When he turns back and crosses his arms across his torso loosely, Lucas feels his mouth grow dry. Because Eliott looks so naturally handsome, looks so effortless. 

“You wouldn’t happen to have bought any, have you?” And he gives Lucas a wry smirk, one where he doesn’t hold out for any hope. 

And Lucas wants to meet him there. Meet him where Eliott already started. He wonders if he could meet him with a cooked meal shared between the two of them. Lucas doesn’t quite know how to offer it, tell Eliott how much he wants to cook for him and see him enjoy something he’s made. 

He walks over to his cabinet and pulls out a box of elbow macaronis. Searches for the smoked gouda he knows he still has and the block of sharp white cheddar cheese he just bought. Pulls out the butter for the rich meal he was about to whip together. 

“I think I have something.” He doesn’t smile at Eliott, but smiles at his counter and the paper bags still overflowing with groceries. Doesn’t quite smile at Eliott and thoughts of how this was a change he really liked but smiles as Eliott simply hops on the counter and watches as Lucas grates the cheese. 

The box of prepared mac’n’cheese sits forgotten. He’s okay with leaving it behind.

**Author's Note:**

> Don't hate me. I love you?
> 
> Just a snapshot
> 
> Will you. LEAVE COMMENTS I love you. 
> 
> @bluronyouradar on tumblr. Come scream at me


End file.
